Nasuada stood at the prow of the boat, gazing out across the rushing river. Up ahead she saw the place Eragon had spoken of in his letter, where the river flowed into a basin. A splash of cold water sprayed her russet cheeks. She felt a familiar pressing on her mind and quickly let him into her consciousness.

I can see the island from here. Saphira and Eragon are there waiting for us.

Thank you, Murtagh.

Nasuada felt excitement well up inside as the boat left the river, floating into the larger body of water. It had been twenty years since Eragon and Saphira had left. So much had changed in such a brief time.

Since the fall of Galbatorix the Empire had been utterly transformed. The challenges of establishing rule had been an uphill battle for the first five years. There were finances to organize, treaties to establish, magic to control, spies to ferret out… The list went on and on. Nasuada breathed a sigh of relief that those were not problems she faced anymore. After years of sleepless nights and establishing control for the good and protection of her people, Nasuada finally had reached a place of calm. It had all fallen into place that one summer night fifteen years ago. Nasuada closed her eyes, allowing her mind to wander back to that dreamlike evening.

The sun had been setting over Ilirea as Nasuada flopped down onto the couch by the balcony in her quarters. It had been a long day of organizing control of trade routes, primarily with Surda. Working with Orrin was a frustrating experience that always left Nasuada tired at the end of the day. She dismissed Farica for the evening, simply desiring to be alone in the quiet of her own mind.

After a few minutes she stood up and sauntered out to her balcony, watching as the dwarf lanterns appeared as balls of light scattered around the city. Her eyes looked to the heavens.

In the distance she then saw an out of place color, so brightly contrasted from the deep purple of the darkening sky. Vivid scarlet emerged from the clouds and Nasuada gazed with wonder to see a dragon with his rider descending towards her.

"Murtagh…" she breathed to herself as a flutter of conflicted emotions bubbled up inside of her. Even in the past few years as new dragons had hatched, in turn selecting their riders, to Nasuada's knowledge Thorn was still the only red dragon bound to a rider. It had been years since Murtagh had been seen. There were always rumors circling around the kingdom of the legendary red rider, who in the most critical moment betrayed the king, and allowed the Varden to reach victory. Although many were still wary of his existence, Murtagh had become a mysterious figure of legend. Feared, but admired, by all mortal men.

Murtagh had all but vanished off the face of Alagaësia. With the exception of scraps of stories murmured around a campfire from questionable village drunkards and vagabonds, Murtagh did not exist anymore.

And yet here he was, flying towards Nasuada on his brilliant red dragon. When he took off so suddenly all those years ago, Nasuada had found herself lost. In Murtagh's place there was a jagged hole in her life that he had filled. She missed the kindness and care he had showed her throughout her imprisonment, the loving touch of his mind to warn her when her torturer was coming, and the late night conversations where there had been nothing between them, where she could listen as he poured out his heart and soul unto her. The bond they had formed had changed Nasuada. When he was suddenly ripped from her life, nothing else could take his place. The long hours of work never seemed to make a difference. By the end of the day Murtagh was still gone, and Nasuada still had that small piece of emptiness that sometimes felt strong enough to swallow her whole. Nasuada knew somewhere deep down that no matter how prosperous the kingdom grew or how beloved a ruler she grew to be, she would never be truly happy unless she filled that hole.

As Murtagh flew near, her heart fluttered. She stood there and waited for him to come closer, fighting the urge throw her consciousness to him. Every fiber of her being desired to feel his presence in her mind. Then without warning an unforgettable consciousness pressed against hers. There were no words following the touch of his mind, merely emotion. The cold, empty pit of anger that had for so long been the most dominant feature of Murtagh's mind was no longer present. His mind felt different, but undeniably his. The anger had dissolved into remorse and that remorse had evolved into peace. In merely brushing his mind, Nasuada could sense the enormous change in Murtagh that had happened over the past five years. Instead of shying away, Murtagh embraced Nasuada's probing touch, inviting her more deeply into his mind. Nasuada was gently whirled into Murtagh's memories. Memories of wandering through long forgotten wilderness, of welling anger spilling over like a flood, of working through his rage, his thirst for revenge, of peace that came with thought and time with Thorn. His memories enveloped her for a few minutes. She was surprised at the sense of calm that had become such a part of Murtagh's consciousness. He was no longer the angry, powerless servant of Galbatorix that Nasuada had known while being kept in Urû'baen. But he was still Murtagh, that much had not changed.

Nasuada finally opened her eyes again, and Murtagh stood in front of her on her balcony.

"You highness, " he said with a bow, and then stood, his eyes boring deeply into hers.

"Murtagh," Nasuada breathed quietly, unable to meet his fervent gaze, unsure of how to respond for a moment, before saying, "Please call me Nasuada."

Conversation felt so hallow, so shallow, after being so fully enveloped in Murtagh's mind. After being dunked into a warm bath of vivid emotion and passion, the cold air of mere conversation was a chilly plunge back into reality.

There was silence. Neither moved nor spoke. Finally Nasuada gathered her courage and met Murtagh's eyes.

"You left," she said blatantly. Nasuada had not intended to accuse him, but without meaning to the silent indictment had crept into her voice. Murtagh dropped his gaze. A look of pain broke across his face as though Nasuada had slapped him. Guilt immediately overtook Nasuada but before she could apologize Murtagh began to speak.

"I needed time to come to terms with everything that had happened, Nasuada. Thorn and I needed to figure out who we were. It was the first time Thorn and I ever got to spend time together without Galbatorix invading every thought, making perverse every good memory Thorn and I had. I needed time to let go of the anger that for so long had taken me over. I needed to destroy the monster I had become. You were the first step along that journey. Back when you were imprisoned, my desire for you to be free finally gave me something to live for. It gave me a reason to keep fighting after I had given up. You were the only thing in my life that wasn't a losing battle. If not for you, I may have never been able to grow and change to become who I am now. I left, but now I'm back."

Nasuada watched as he looked up to meet her stare. Cautiously Nasuada let down the barriers around her mind. She reached out to find Murtagh and then gently led him inside of her consciousness. Without words she led him through the memories of the last few years. Of the problems she faced in ruling, of the way she worked tirelessly to make the land safe and prosperous, and finally of the emptiness that had grown inside her when Murtagh had left. Finally she showed him that she understood. He was forgiven. Murtagh gently untangled himself from Nasuada's mind. A smile stretched across his face.

Without warning Murtagh pulled Nasuada into a warm embrace. Nasuada immediately stiffened at the physical contact, as it was something quite foreign to her. But then Murtagh's mind brushed against her own and she realized that as mysterious as Murtagh was believed to be, he was still Murtagh. The comfort she had felt in his presence all those years ago had never vanished. Like magic, relief seeped through her veins as she relaxed into his arms, slowly wrapping her own arms around his muscular torso. She inhaled the calming scent of his skin, drawing her back to memories of dark days before Empire had fallen, to the days when Murtagh had been the only ray of sunshine in that forsaken dungeon. From that moment on Murtagh had reentered her life. She had no intention of letting him leave for an indefinite amount of time ever again.

Through the years they grew close beyond belief. Murtagh was taken into her palace, serving as the sole confident and best friend of the queen herself. The people were slow to accept him. He spent much of his time either hidden away in the castle or flying with Thorn. However they eventually grew to accept Murtagh as a constant figure. If Nasuada traveled anywhere, Murtagh and Thorn were close behind.

Nasuada could not recall a specific moment when her relationship with Murtagh had changed from friendship to something more. It gradually happened as the years blurred together. It started with a casual slip of the hand, their fingers intertwined as they walked together through the moonlit gardens in Ilirea. It progressed to midnight conversations that stretched into all hours of the night. The divulged unto each other their deepest secrets and greatest fears.

Nasuada specifically remembered one night twelve years ago. It had been late; a storm was blowing through the capital. A clap of thunder had echoed through the night and awaked Nasuada. She bolted upright with a start, clutching her blanket around her shivering body. The window in her chamber had been flung open and rain was pouring in through the gapping hole. Nasuada clambered out of bed towards the window, sliding along the wet floor. She reached the low-silled window and with all her might tried to shut it closed. The wind, however, had an idea of it's own. Nasuada pulled as hard as she possibly could but the window would not budge. Wind and rain whipped angrily against Nasuada's scarred, trembling arms.

Nasuada attempted to take a step closer to get a better grip of the window, her goal being to lean against the edge of the window for more support. However when she set her foot down it slid against the slippery, wet stones. She skidded forward and her shins hit the bottom ledge of the window. Her body tumbled forward into the manic storm. Nasuada felt panic jolt through her body as she reached out to grasp something, anything, that could stop her from falling to her death out of a seventh story window. Her right hand grasped the window latch, a small handle jutting out of the frame. Under her weight the frame shuddered, but unbelievably held up. Without a force pulling the window any specific way, it whipped back and forth in the wind, dragging Nasuada along like a flimsy, limp doll. She focused all her energy on merely holding on. She automatically reached out her consciousness to find someone, anyone, who could help her. Right down the hall she sensed Murtagh. Without a moment to wonder what he was doing awake or why he was out in the hallway, Nasuada mentally shouted will all her might.

Murtagh! She cried frantically. Without bothering to explain she sent him an image of where she was, intermingled with the panic of the situation. Nasuada felt immediate concern radiating from him.

Murtagh bolted down the hallway. He ripped open the door to Nasuada's chamber and crossed the room in a matter of three bounds. Nasuada forced herself to stay as still as possible despite her mounting panic. The frame shuddered again with an ominous creak.

Murtagh, please hurry! Nasuada thought, slowly being overtaken by fear. The storm howled relentlessly in her ears. Behind her Murtagh gripped the curtain rod with one strong arm, and the other one reach out for Nasuada. His feet were perched precariously on the edge of the windowsill. The window groaned again in the furious wind.

Murtagh lowered himself into a crouch. The storm was too loud for Nasuada to hear anything he was saying so he touched her with his mind.

Nasuada, I need you to give me one of your hands. Nasuada looked up at her slippery fingers and finally nodded, knowing it had to be done. With one surge of courage she let go and reached out for Murtagh's arm. She came into contact with his warm, rain soaked skin. His strong hand clasped firmly around her wrist. Murtagh fought against the wind to pull the window in. After a few minutes of fighting unyieldingly to the wind, Murtagh had managed to pull the window in close enough to snake his muscled arm around Nasuada's waist.

With his newly gained leverage he heaved her body towards her. With her added weight they tumbled backwards, inside Nasuada's chamber. The window slammed shut behind them. They landed together on the floor. Nasuada's entire body was shaking, freezing water soaking her garments. It took them both a few moments to catch their breath. Finally Nasuada looked over to Murtagh, a fire in her eyes.

"Thank you, Murtagh. I owe you my life," Nasuada finally murmured warmly. Murtagh ran his hand through his mass of wind blown, dampened hair. Murtagh looked at her, sitting up.

"It's only fair. It's to you I owe the happiness I have found," Murtagh finally responded heavily, a passion burning in his voice. Nasuada gradually pulled herself off the floor. Murtagh stood. Dictated by chivalry, he made move to head for the door before Nasuada stopped him. Her dark, trembling hand gently grasped his strong arm.

"Wait a second, before you go," she said. She them scuffled behind a curtain, slipping off her soaked gown and replacing it with a clean, dry one. When she came back out Murtagh stood there waiting for her. She started walking towards him, but her foot got caught on the edge of a rug. She stumbled forward and Murtagh caught her in steady arms.

"I guess I simply can't keep myself together tonight," Nasuada mumbled, embarrassment coloring her voice. Without another word Murtagh pulled her close to his body

"That's okay. You're more together than you realize. You're wonderful," Murtagh whispered into her ear. A blush crept into Nasuada's cheeks. Murtagh then proceeded to sweep her off her own, shaky feet. He cradled her affectionately in his arms, holding her close to his chest. Nasuada was too weary to protest. She allowed herself to melt into his warm, tender embrace. He pulled back the covers and laid Nasuada in her bed, tucking a heavy blanket around her. Nasuada felt a sense of emptiness return as she left the safe confines of Murtagh's arms.

"Is there anything else, Nasuada?" he asked tenderly, Nasuada lifted her head to catch his eyes.. She felt her sense of reality slowly slipping away as she found herself lost in his affectionate stare. Nasuada let herself be overcome by the intensity of his dark, warm eyes. After a moment she snapped back into reality, in all its relentless glory. As she came back to the real world, that fear that she had, for the most part, kept at bay throughout the entire experience finally took its toll. Her face paled and weariness overcame her body. The most noticeable effect was the gripping terror that overtook her mind, as to fear what may happen if Murtagh left again.

With Murtagh came peace and safety. The second he walked out that door she would once again be forced to face the unforgiving demands and struggles of the world all alone.

"Would you…" Nasuada started, "Would you stay with me?" she quickly finished, as an embarrassed flush crawled up her cheeks. She looked away, afraid to meet Murtagh's eyes. What would she see there? Confusion? Rejection? Incredulity? She then felt Murtagh's strong hand cup her chin and pull her face up to meet his eyes, those deep, searching, heartwarming eyes. His face showed none of the things she may have been expected. Instead she saw warmth overcome his face. All distance melted away as he nodded with a loving smile. He sat down next to her on the bed and brushed the hair gently away from her face.

"Of course," he whispered devotedly. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. Nasuada's arms enclosed around Murtagh's neck and she pulled his face close to hers. Murtagh's lips crashed down onto hers sweetly. The kiss lasted but a moment before Nasuada pulled away. She let out a satisfied hum but refused to unlock her arms from Murtagh's neck.

"You're not going anywhere," she purred. Murtagh chuckled quietly before laying down beside her. Nasuada shifted slightly as to wrap her arms around his chest instead, and laid her head on the place right above his heart, her entire body pressed softly against his. Murtagh brought his left arm around Nasuada's body, holding her more closely to him. His right hand then began to trace gentle patterns affectionately on her back as she started to drift into unconsciousness.

He stayed with her that night as she slept in the comfort of his arms. After an hour or two Murtagh reluctantly untangled himself from her sweet embrace. He made sure to wrap her up tightly in a blanket so she would not catch a chill and then he settled into the chaise in the corner of the room. He wanted to keep his promise without arising any suspicion of scandal, as that was the farthest from the truth. He watched over her as long as he could before dozing into a light sleep. His dreams were filled with thoughts of Nasuada.

After that night things were different. Nasuada and Murtagh had grown closer than ever and they could no longer deny their evident, passionate feelings for one another. Finally Murtagh realized the only way to make them both happy would be through properly courting Nasuada. He proposed marriage. This was no easy request considering Nasuada was the queen and Murtagh was a dragon rider.

The next year involved many political conflicts surrounding the intended marriage. From the dwarves' desire to kill Murtagh to the implications that lay with a rider having political preferences, many were in an uproar at the mere suggestion of such a course of action. Another issue that arose was that in event of Nasuada's inevitable death, would Murtagh, an immortal rider, take the throne? Eventually it was decided that when that did happen, the crown would skip over Murtagh, which was perfectly all right with him. He had no desire to rule. He desired Nasuada and her happiness and safety. A mixture of groveling and political bribery settled the feud with the dwarves. After bringing to light Eragon's oath of fealty, many realized it was impossible to separate the human riders from their loyalty to their native land and countrymen.

Nasuada took a deep breath, bringing herself back to reality. The ship sailed through the basin. The excitement welled in Nasuada in anticipation of seeing Eragon.

A/N Reviews encourage me to keep writing. I want to know what you think! Thanks. Love, Bae